No Way Out
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: CHAPTER 3 UP! The conclusion to the Ghosts trilogy. Ayumi has information that will help Gin and Vodka against the enemies they have not laid to rest, and somehow it seems to tie in with a mystery that Conan is working on.
1. Stormy Weather

**Detective Conan**

**No Way Out**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: Sorry about the confusion, folks. _This_ is the third part of the _Ghosts_ trilogy. _A Lovely Lonely Night_ is an AU, as I mentioned on it. The characters aren't mine (except the antagonists), and the story is! The title is inspired by the song by Peter Gabriel. The line about the Organization's role in some public hospitals was inspired by Eeveebeth's excellently written story _Sniper's Soliloquy_, which I highly recommend!**

**Chapter One**

It was raining heavily that night. It came down in sheets, pelting over the roads and any cars whose drivers were either foolish or brave enough to venture out into the weather. The wind blew viciously, bending trees and snapping several branches free of their positions to fly at houses, onto sidewalks, and into the road. There had been several bad accidents, not only from the slippery asphault, but from parts of trees slamming into people's windshields. This bad weather was a followup to the ice and snow that had come several days before, and there were still patches of slush and even of ice still on the ground. Some was melting from the rain, but not all of it had faded away yet.

One driver in particular cursed as he saw a particularly deadly branch flying toward his dark car. He swerved, skidding over several lanes as he tried to avoid it. His companion cried out in protest as the vehicle ended up spinning once, then twice, before coming to a halt near the road's edge. There was silence for a long moment afterward, as both simply digested this experience. Finally the one in the passenger seat spoke.

"Bro, they had to be crazy, to send us out in this kind of weather!" He looked over at the other, who was gripping the steering wheel and glaring ahead with eyes of emerald ice.

"Who's crazier," the driver retorted after a moment, "the original fool, or the ones who follow?" He leaned back, taking out a cigarette and using the car's lighter on it. He rubbed at the mist that had formed on the inside of the windshield, squinting to see what was outside. He could barely make out the next couple of yards. Then his eyes narrowed and he moved forward again, his gaze following the beam from the headlights. His blonde bangs fell into his line of vision again, but it did not seem to bother him nor to lessen his ability to see ahead.

His partner blinked in confusion from behind the dark glasses. "What do you see, Gin?" he asked, and then stared when Gin opened the door on his side and began to climb out into the ferocious weather.

"I don't know," the other growled, slamming the door again and carefully starting to make his way over the icy road. His eyes could be playing tricks on him. Perhaps he had not seen anything other than some slush or old snow in the road.

The wind whipped again, blowing his fringe back into his eyes. The rain seemed to be starting to turn to snow, and several flakes slapped his cheeks harshly. He pulled the high collar of his coat closer around him, and the flakes landed on it and in his long hair. Still he went forward slowly, cautiously, not wanting to slip and go sprawling due to a large piece of ice in his way.

Then he found what he had thought he had seen from the car---a small body laying limply in the road, on its stomach. Its arms were thrown out in front of it, the right fist tightly clenched. Short and drenched raven locks fell across the face, concealing the features, but Gin found that he already had a bad suspicion. The hairstyle looked too familiar. Carefully he reached out, brushing back some of the hair. Then he growled.

Gently he ran his hand down the child's neck and back, making certain that there was not any damage done. He was not certain what had happened to her. Was she the victim of a hit-and-run, or had she slipped on the ice and struck her head? He could see a bit of blood on her arm.

He looked up abruptly when he heard approaching footsteps. "Bro?" His partner stopped short, staring in shock at the scene.

Gin started to take off his coat. "It's that girl Ayumi," he said flatly. "There's no telling how long she's been laying here, but she's completely drenched. Pick her up."

The other simply stood there for a moment, stunned at the order, and at finding Ayumi laying here at all. They had not seen her for nearly three months, during which time Gin had been recovering from the sniper attack that had left him near-death. He still moved somewhat stiffly, and that was apparent at times such as now, as he was slowly easing his body back into a standing position.

"Pick her up, Vodka!" Gin snapped. "I'll wrap her in my coat."

Quickly Vodka reached for the limp child, disturbed by the stillness of her form. Carefully he straightened up, making certain not to jostle her, and gently laid her in Gin's arms. Vodka swallowed hard. "Is . . . is she alive, bro?" he asked finally.

"Yes," Gin grunted, bringing the folds of his dark coat around her before turning and heading back to the Porsche. He felt her snuggle weakly against him as he sank into the driver's seat.

Vodka was soon back in the shelter of the car as well. "What are we going to do with her, bro?" he asked hesitantly. He watched Gin's expression, trying to determine his answer, but the blonde's eyes were masked and his expression never changed as he looked down at Ayumi. She seemed to be struggling for consciousness and she shuddered, moving closer against Gin's chest. Vodka wondered if she was aware of the one holding her.

Gin did not answer. He wondered himself what they would do. "Are you awake?" he said to Ayumi, hoping that his words would pierce through to whatever state of awareness she was in. "Can you hear me?"

She shivered again, drawing further into the coat. "Gin-sama," she murmured softly, and a soft smile graced her features. "You're so warm. . . ."

Gin ignored that. "Can you tell me what happened to you?" he asked. "Are you badly hurt?"

She looked confused. Her blue eyes opened and she blinked up at him, and then suddenly, tears spilled over from her eyes and down her cheeks. "Gin-sama . . . they're going to kill you," she whispered. "They're going to kill you and Vodka-san. . . ." With her left hand she reached out, grabbing a handful of Gin's turtleneck sweater. He could see the panic coming over her and he growled, knowing that she needed to stay calm but also wondering what on earth she was talking about. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Vodka staring in disbelief.

"Who's going to kill us?" Gin demanded. He half-wondered if she was just delirious from the cold and whatever else had happened and that she did not know what she was saying. But then he blinked as she dropped the contents of her small right hand into his large one.

"Those mean people," she said softly, "the ones who were bothering us before. . . ."

He studied her, his expression having darkened. "Did they hurt you?" he wanted to know. But she had closed her eyes again, re-entering a state of near unconsciousness. Gin muttered to himself and then uncurled his fingers to see what she had given him. Then he stared in astonishment at the blood-red pearl laying on his palm.

Vodka gaped. "What's that?" he exclaimed.

Gin turned it over between his fingers. "I don't know," he grumbled. "We need to find out what happened to her." He slipped the pearl into his pocket and studied Ayumi again, a slight thoughtful look in his eyes. "Vodka . . . Vermouth's going to be staying in the city for a while, isn't she?"

Vodka blinked in surprise, then nodded slowly. "Yeah . . ." He regarded Gin with confusion. "Are you saying we should go to her?"

Gin looked irritated. "I hate to, but we can't take the girl to the base. And if we take her to a hospital, I doubt we'd be allowed to have any time alone with her. It would probably just result in a lot of unpleasant questioning." He gazed down at her shivering form before handing her over to Vodka so that he could start the car. Revving the engine, he turned on the heater and the windshield wipers as he began to manuever out of their current position.

Vodka watched him for a moment, then looked down at Ayumi. She appeared to be more at peace now, as if knowing she was safe. From what Vodka could see, she did not have any visible injuries, other than the effects of the cold. But that was bad enough. And she would not realize at this point that Gin wanted the information from her. Still, Vodka knew by now that was not the only reason why Gin wanted to help her. When he had wrapped her in his coat, he had not known that she possessed knowledge he would want. Vodka cradled her close as they went around a corner, feeling uncomfortable.

"It doesn't seem like she's changed much," he remarked slowly.

"Were you expecting her to?" Gin answered flatly.

"Well, no," Vodka admitted. He started when he felt the child snuggling against him, and then he felt himself blushing. It always made him uneasy to be around children, and especially this one. He never knew what to say to her, and he preferred to leave it up to Gin. And sometimes Gin found himself stymied as well. Vodka shifted position slightly, gazing out at the stormy road.

"Call Vermouth and tell her we're coming over," Gin directed. He did not want to attempt it himself. With the bad weather, he wanted to keep both hands on the steering wheel.

Vodka gulped, not relishing the thought of that at all. "But what should I say about why we're coming?" he exclaimed.

"Just tell her what happened," Gin replied. "She can have time to see if she has any clothes that would fit the girl." He did not offer any other advice, and Vodka sighed as he pulled out his cellphone.

* * *

Conan cursed in frustration, slamming his fist down on the door rest of Dr. Agasa's Volkswagen Beetle. This latest case he was attempting to solve was driving him mad. Three people, seemingly unrelated, had all turned up dead---and at each scene of the crime, there had been a broken necklace of blood-red pearls. Now another body had been found, and the person who had reported it had described a small child running away from the sight---a child who matched Ayumi's description.

"What would Ayumi have been doing there?" he said now. For the past few minutes, he had been trying to contact her with the badge, but it was not working. Either she was out of range or else she did not have her badge. Or the storm could be causing problems. That definitely sounded likely. Of course, there was the other possibility---that she was not capable of answering right now. Conan did not want to think about that, but he did anyway.

"Maybe she just found the body while she was going home from somewhere," Ai remarked calmly, watching him from her position on the other side of the backseat.

Conan glowered at the badge. "But it would be out of her way," he replied. "I haven't talked to her for several days. What's she been doing all this time? It looks as if she's been getting mixed up in a mystery herself." He looked over at Ai, his expression dark and serious. "I know you can't have forgotten what happened the last time she went missing."

Ai nodded grimly. "She said she'd been with Gin at some hospital." Her own eyes narrowed. "She was probably at one of the Black Organization's bases." She still remembered Conan's expression when they had first learned Ayumi's story after her return. She had rarely seen him look so completely bowled over. Not that she herself had not been appalled as well. She most definitely had been.

And all of these events and Ayumi's retellings of them had left Ai feeling so extremely confused about Gin and Vodka. She had long ago given up on them both, but after Ayumi's experiences, Ai had half a mind to go confront Gin and demand to know why he had helped the child. And yet she knew that she could not. She could never let it be known that Ayumi was connected with her in any way, if Gin did not already know. Ai knew that Conan believed he did, and sometimes Ai could not help but consider that possibility herself.

Conan slumped back against the seat. "Why would they let her in there?" he said in frustration. "And why was she allowed to leave?" He had often considered the idea that perhaps they were tracking her every moment, and he wondered it again now.

Ai sighed, shaking her head. "Ayumi always insisted that it was a hospital," she mused. "Maybe she never saw any other part of the base." She frowned more. "Of course, there's also public hospitals that are secretly being run by the Organization." She studied Conan. "Do you think Ayumi's found Gin again?"

"I think it's something we should think about," Conan replied darkly. "Or maybe that _he's_ found _her_."

Ai nodded slowly. "Gin wouldn't have been committing these murders, though," she said then. "He would never leave something at the crime scene. The Organization likes to cover their tracks."

"I know." Conan knew all too well. "But maybe Gin knows something about the crimes, anyway." He sighed. "And why did Ayumi run? Was she going to tell someone about the body? Was she running from the murderer or someone else? Or was she running _to_ someone?" It was all so complicated. He wished that Ayumi and the other members of the Detective Boys would not always find a way to involve themselves in the cases. Then he had additional things to worry about, wondering what sort of trouble they were getting into and taking the time to find them when he needed to use that time to solve the crimes before other people were killed.

The vehicle stopped. "This is the location where the body was found," Dr. Agasa announced, glancing over at the office building. Police cars had already gathered, and yellow crime scene tape was being set up. The officers were wearing rain coats, and none of them looked pleased at being out in this weather. Agasa could certainly understand why. He was not pleased about coming out either.

Immediately Conan undid his seatbelt and opened the door, stepping out. Ai followed suit, getting out on her side. After a sigh, Agasa found his umbrella and chased after them.

There was not much that could be learned. The woman who had seen Ayumi fleeing could only tell them that the child had seemed panicked, and as though she did not know where to go. And, if the woman had seen correctly, Ayumi had been carrying something with her, in her hands. At first, no one could figure out what it could have been, but then one of the police officers mentioned that there had not been as many beads as there had been at the other crime scenes.

Conan frowned deeply. "Could Ayumi have taken some of the pearls?" he mused.

"If she did, what would be the purpose?" Ai asked. "She would probably think that they were pretty, but after everything she's seen she would know better than to take evidence away."

Conan began to pace around, wishing that he had his soccer ball. "If we could solve this case, then we might have the answers to Ayumi's whereabouts as well!" he said in frustration. "The three previous victims were a waitress, a radio personality, and a television news reporter. And this one tonight was a secretary. None of them had ever met each other before." He narrowed his eyes, rubbing his chin as he tried to think.

"We've already done searches on the first three," Ai remarked, "but if we tried this fourth victim, maybe we would find some connection to at least one of the others."

Conan nodded. "That's about the only thing I can think of to do. Maybe she'll be the key to this." He looked around the area a moment longer, but did not find anything of use. With a sigh of exasperation, he got back into the car with Ai and Agasa.

* * *

Vermouth instructed Gin and Vodka to use the back entrance to the manor, as it would not look good if the press somehow learned of Chris Vineyard's mysterious visitors in black. Even on such a stormy night, she did not trust that reporters would be kept at bay. She gave the two directions, and when they found their way there, she was waiting near the door, smirking in amusement.

"Well, so your little shadow is back, Gin," she purred as she opened the door and let them in. "I had a feeling that you wouldn't be able to get away from her." Gin grunted, and Vermouth looked down at the small body curled up in the folds of his coat. Vermouth was further amused.

"That reminds me of when I met her," she commented. "That time, she was wearing your hat, too." Playfully she tapped the brim of the dark fedora before reaching to take the child from Gin. "I'll get her into some dry clothes and have my doctor look at her." Her smirk widened. "I told him on the phone that a couple of my servants found her near here."

Gin growled. "I don't care what you said, as long as it doesn't trace back to us," he answered, and noticed Vodka looking around the large room in fascination. They had been to a couple of Vermouth's other mansions, at times when it was absolutely necessary, but they had not been to this one. Vodka was always somewhat awed by the spacious, well-decorated rooms, as he and Gin lived at the various Organization's bases when they were not on assignment. And though the suites were nice, they were nothing like this.

Vermouth watched with amusement. "You boys can wait in here," she smiled, "or upstairs, if you'd prefer. You're the only guests I have right now, other than the doctor." With that she calmly walked out of the room, carrying Ayumi.

Gin folded his coat and draped it over a chair near a heat vent. "She said it was the same people from before," he mused. "She must have meant Hi Sou." He narrowed his eyes. "I want to know if he's been using her again, or if she just happened to stumble across some plan of his and he tried to kill her for it." He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and touched the pearl. Frowning, he brought it out to study better under the bright lights.

"Hey," Vodka said suddenly, "haven't red pearls been left at several crime scenes lately?" It seemed to him that he recalled reading something about it in the paper earlier that day, when they had gone for lunch at a café.

Gin blinked, recognition coming into his eyes. "You're right," he replied. He turned it around and around again, trying to think of what significance such an item would be, and what connection it would have to Ling. Had he or his associates been doing the killing? If so, why did they leave such messages behind? Were they trying to attract someone's attention? If they had wanted Gin's, they had failed. And how had Ayumi become aware of things?

He narrowed his eyes. They would not learn much of anything until Ayumi could speak to them. He still wondered if Ling had been hurting her once more. That would definitely get Gin's attention, but the ones responsible would regret it.

They did not know how long they remained there. Gin smoked calmly, appearing as though nothing was bothering him. Vodka was too much on edge to sit down, and he paced around the room several times before finally settling down to smoke as well. The clock ticked in another room, loud enough that they could hear it through the wall. Gin glanced at his watch once or twice, but stared off into the distance for the most part, his eyes obscured, and Vodka was left to wonder what his partner was thinking.

At last the door opened and they both looked up as Vermouth stepped into the room. "Alright, boys, you don't have to hide anymore," she smiled, leaning on the doorframe. "It's just us now."

Gin looked up, part of a cold green eye becoming visible. "What did the doctor say?" he asked flatly.

Vermouth pulled out a cigarette of her own and lighted up. "Well, the poor kid's getting warmed up now," she replied. "The doctor thinks she was running fast and slipped, then just got too exhausted to get up again." She frowned. "She's got some bad bruises and cuts . . . could be from the fall . . . or she could have been being beaten."

Gin growled. "Is she awake?"

"She's been mostly just half-awake. She couldn't really tell the doctor anything. She was asking for you, though."

Vodka looked at her in concern. "How did you explain that, with the doctor there?" he exclaimed.

Vermouth shrugged. "I just said, of course, that I didn't have any idea what she was talking about," she replied. "After all, the story is that I've never seen her before. Anyway, you might want to go up to her," she added, looking over at Gin. "The only thing she really seems aware of right now is that you were with her."

Gin said nothing in response and instead simply got up, brushing past Vermouth and heading for the stairs. She mock-pouted.

"Oh, don't I even get a thank you?" she remarked, looking back to Vodka.

The poor man flushed deeply. "Thanks," he mumbled, getting up to hurry after Gin. The last thing he wanted was to be alone in a room with Vermouth.

The blonde woman smirked, watching him go. "Kisses," she purred after him, and she watched Vodka freeze in shock before quickly going up the stairs. She laughed softly to herself.

* * *

Gin was still silent as he came into the room where Ayumi was. It was one of the smaller guest rooms, as Vermouth had decided that too much space might overwhelm the child, and also, a smaller room would keep in the heat better. A fire was roaring across from the bed, and the raven-haired girl was snuggled under the covers, her dark locks a sharp contrast against her pale flesh and the white pillow. In the light, he could see that one of her cheeks was red, as if she had been struck. He could imagine what the rest of her body looked like. He sank into a chair near the bed, watching her expressionlessly.

He never had been able to sort through his feelings for her, or indeed, the very fact that he felt anything at all. He knew that in the beginning, he had saved her mostly because he had simply not wanted Ushio, a man he hated, to get what he wanted. But somehow it had ended up being more than that. He never had figured out why he had let her go free. After all, killing her would have kept her from Ushio just as easily. He could have done it, just as he had told Ushio he had.

Her eyes would have haunted him, though. He ran a hand over his face. There was just something about her eyes that had pierced through to his dark and tattered soul. He did not understand it, yet he knew it was true.

He glanced up briefly as Vodka came in and sat down in another chair. But Vodka recognized that Gin was not in a mood to talk, and so he remained quiet. After they had worked together for so long, Vodka had come to be able to sense Gin's moods quite well, even though he often did not have confidence that he understood the blonde. Gin was grateful for the silence.

He looked back to Ayumi, watching as she stirred briefly to clutch the pillow. He could see another hint of a bruise on her arm, and his eyes narrowed. He knew it angered him, when she was hurt. He felt a strong, undeniable outrage towards the ones responsible. But he refused to acknowledge why. He would not and could not comprehend the simple truth that everyone around him could see.


	2. Old and New Enemies

**Chapter Two**

It was another hour or more before Ayumi began to fully awaken. She stirred, stretching her arms over her head to grip the top of the pillow. Then her eyes fluttered open and she looked around in confusion and awe, studying the room and the furniture. When she focused on Gin and Vodka, she smiled weakly.

"I'm glad it wasn't just a dream," she murmured, reaching out for Gin's hand. "You're really here, Gin-sama. . . ."

Gin grunted, but finally took her small hand and covered it with both of his, figuring it would keep her calm. "Do you remember what happened to you?" he asked, feeling that her skin was still somewhat cool. Her hair was still damp as well, though Vermouth had dried at it with a hair dryer.

Ayumi shivered. "It was cold," she said softly. "I was running, trying to get away from the man with the plastic arm. . . ."

Vodka blinked, and Gin frowned. "What man?" he demanded.

"He killed that lady," Ayumi answered, "at the building I was going by. He broke a necklace and threw it down, and then he saw me. I grabbed some of the pearls because I thought they might be important, and he chased me when I ran." She looked up at him, and Gin could see the terror in her eyes. "I got away from him, but it was so cold and I couldn't see where I was. I remember slipping and falling, but nothing else. . . ."

"Would you recognize that man if you saw him again?" Gin wanted to know.

Ayumi bit her lip. "It was really dark, and it had already started to rain, so I didn't really see his face. The only thing I really saw well was his plastic arm." She tried to sit up more, wincing as she did and holding onto Gin for balance.

Gin watched her, his expression never changing. "How did you get these?" he asked then, indicating two of the bruises on her arm.

Ayumi averted her eyes, shifting in a bit of a nervous or ashamed way. She gripped a handful of quilt, apparently either not wanting to reply or else being unsure how to go about it.

Vodka, who had been silent all this time while letting Gin handle things, watched the child for a moment before turning his attention to his partner, who was frowning deeply. "You said something about those people from before," he spoke finally, looking back to Ayumi. "How do they fit into this? Are they the ones who hurt you?"

"They're so mean," she responded quietly, and she shuddered again before looking up at Gin. She patted the mattress next to her. "Gin-sama, will you sit up here with me?" she asked then, her bright blue eyes wide and imploring. It was true that he was sitting next to the bed, but there is something of an added comfort when someone held dear is right next to the other person, and that is how Ayumi was feeling at that moment, especially in light of her recent experiences.

Gin gave her a deadpan, pokerface look, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. But that was how he liked it. Slowly he got up from the chair and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Grateful, Ayumi scooted over to him, snuggling by his side and laying her head against his chest. After a moment of silence, she spoke again.

"That man has been killing a lot of people," she announced then, her voice soft and sad. "One of the people was a lady with a radio show that I liked to listen to. I wanted to find out why she had to die, so I went to the radio station to talk to people there. . . ." She bit her lip. "I didn't really get to find out much. They didn't really think it was important to tell me anything, because I'm just a kid, so I had to go look in the files. But I didn't find anything that looked strange. . . ."

Gin grunted, as if to ask how this connected with Ling Hi Sou. He could see that Vodka looked puzzled as well. Then Ayumi continued her story.

"I did find the names of some other people the lady knew, so I decided to go talk to them." She shifted, looking down again. "One of them was a man who knows Hi Sou-san. . . . I didn't know that at first, but he acted really weird when he was talking to me. It was like he knew my name or something, but he said he didn't when I asked him. When I left I saw he had a letter from Hi Sou-san." She tightly gripped the knees of her pants.

"I was scared that maybe Hi Sou-san would come after you and Vodka-san again, so when I heard that man's telephone ring, I hid under the window to listen instead of leaving. I thought maybe it was Hi Sou-san calling, or one of his friends. And it was! It was Hi Sou-san. . . ." Ayumi shut her eyes tightly, several tears escaping. "I heard that man saying he's going to help Hi Sou-san kill you, Gin-sama! He said he knows you didn't die. . . . He said he knows you're still alive, but that you're still not well, either. . . ." She shuddered, hugging him gently.

"And he caught you?" Gin asked darkly.

Ayumi hesitated. "Not then," she replied quietly, "but he saw me running away. I knocked over a plant and he heard. . . . He yelled, but I just kept running. . . ." She looked up at him, the emotions glistening in her eyes as she snuggled against his blue sweater. "I was so worried! I wanted to find you and Vodka-san and tell you both, but I didn't know where to look. . . . I was scared they'd find you first!"

Gin looked back emotionlessly. "Did that man tell Hi Sou about you?" he queried.

Ayumi nodded weakly. "Some of Hi Sou-san's friends took me today, after the third person was killed," she said softly. "They hurt me. . . ." She did not elaborate, but she shuddered and continued to hug Gin close. Her sleeve pulled back, revealing several more dark bruises. Vodka winced.

He had seen many people hurt far worse than this, but still, this was a child---a child who unconditionally loved both of them. Vodka did not want her to be harmed, and he especially did not want to see it happen because of them. From the way Gin was tensing, Vodka was certain that the blonde felt the same way---though he was probably also uncomfortable with all the affection he was being shown. Gin did not know how to deal with that.

"I got away from them and ran, and that's when I saw that man with the plastic arm," Ayumi said then.

Gin frowned a bit. "Two murders in one day?" he muttered.

"I thought that there were four days between the other killings," Vodka remarked, remembering reading about the crimes in the paper. The police had been trying to determine the significance of the four day interludes, the blood-red pearls, and the specific women killed, but so far they had not had any luck.

"There were." Gin leaned back. "The fourth murder may have been done by a copy-cat." And he wondered what Hi Sou's involvement with the other victims had been. Gin was not in the habit of paying attention to such incidents normally, but this time he was deciding that he needed to make an exception. He would have to stay one step ahead of his nemesis.

He looked back to Ayumi. "Do you know for sure that the man with the plastic arm killed all of the people?" he asked.

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I just thought that he did. . . ."

She felt Gin tense further as her arm hit a certain place on his chest, and she wondered if she had accidentally hit one of the spots where he had been wounded before. It always filled her with such horror, when she remembered seeing him laying on the docks in the pool of blood, nearly dead. Quickly she pulled back, looking up into the dark eyes. "Are you better now, Gin-sama?" she said softly.

He grunted. "I'm fine," he answered, and Vodka knew that was the most she would get from the blonde.

Vodka wondered what Gin was planning to do with Ayumi now---whether he would keep the child there for a while until she was healed, and until Ling could be brought down, or if he would take her back to her home. The problem was that Ling could easily strike again, if he wanted her. The other problem was that she really could not stay at Vermouth's home for very long. A third problem was that people would definitely be looking for her. They probably were already, in fact, since she had been gone for at least several hours.

Vodka looked up at his partner searchingly, but Gin met his gaze coldly and without answers in his eyes. Apparently he was also unsure of what would be the best thing.

* * *

The hotel suite was mostly dark, the only light being cast by a dimmed lamp and the occasional flicking of a cigarette lighter. The shadows cast their various ominous and strange shapes upon the walls, making their subjects appear more disturbing than they actually were, at least physically. Their souls, perhaps, were as twisted as the shadows foretold.

The one who was renting the hotel room was in his late twenties or early thirties, and he was leaning forward in a wheelchair as he rested his elbows on the armrests and clasped his hands in front of him. Black hair reached his shoulders and fell against the sides of his face, but did not conceal his violet eyes. A pleased smirk graced his features as he looked at the man seated opposite to him on a plush chair.

His guest was dressed in black, with an eerily familiar fedora tilted on his head. His long blonde hair tumbled down his back, but his eyes were not hidden by shaggy bangs. He was around the same age as his raven-haired host, and he was smirking as well, apparently pleased over what they had been discussing.

The man in the wheelchair leaned back, lighting a cigar as he watched his visitor. "It's very satisfying," he commented smoothly, his violet eyes glimmering, "that I happened to meet up with you, or that you found me, however you want to look at it." He started to smirk again. "And honestly, what better way is there to get back at an old enemy than this? You look so much like him, it's astonishing."

The other grunted, taking out a cigarette and lighting it in the dim room. "I have nothing against him personally," he responded. "You're the one with the grudge."

"Oh, I know." The raven-haired man sighed, shaking his head. "You know, I am curious about one thing. When you were arrested in the past, after a failed attempt to kill a useless informant with a bomb on a train, you said that you had been bettered by a child. How did that happen?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want to talk about it," grumbled the blonde. His beady eyes gleamed out from the shadow of his hat, his nose was large and looked as though it might have been broken in the past, and his face was lined with wrinkles. Up close, he did not resemble Gin at all. But from a distance it would be hard to tell, especially from behind. And his job was solely to incriminate the assassin in whatever way his invalid employer requested.

"What's really the purpose of making it look like this Gin person was involved with these things, especially taking the girl?" he asked now, with a frown.

The other shrugged. "Honestly, can't you figure it out? The girl's friends will get highly upset. After all, surely they're not pleased anyway about Ayumi thinking so highly of such a person. Give them some more justification for their fears and you have the beginnings of an all-out disaster." He grinned wickedly. "Maybe even, the news will reach into . . . certain circles that will make Agent Gin all the more furious and may elicit more trouble and heartache than he thought possible." He did not elaborate, but it was obvious from his eyes that he had something specific in mind. This was not a random plot. It was being carefully thought over every step of the way.

The blonde did not look impressed. "Just as long as you give me the amount of money we agreed upon," he grunted, "with advance payments."

"I'm a man of my word," the wheelchair-bound man sniffed. "And tell me, do you still have that friend of yours, the one who resembles Agent Gin's friend Agent Vodka?" A nod was his answer. "Good. I'll want his services too, just to make it all more . . . authentic."

His guest stood. "I'll talk to him about it," he replied. "The next time we meet, I'll bring him. And in the meantime, I'll continue working at getting Gin implicated in whatever I can. I've already started, as you requested." He stepped closer to the other man. "I expect payment."

"And you have it." The dark-haired man reached for a briefcase to the side of his wheelchair and lifted it up. "Count it if you wish. It's all there."

The blonde reached for it, setting on the nearby table and clicking it open as he leafed through the contents. Then he nodded in satisfaction and closed it again. "I'll be in touch," he said as he took it by the handle and lifted it down, then turned and headed out of the room. He shut the door firmly behind him.

The wheelchair-bound man stared thoughtfully at the door for a long time afterwards, puffing on his cigar.

* * *

It was the middle of the night, but Ai was still awake, looking over the printouts of information about the four murder victims. She was certain that at the Mouri Detective Agency, Conan was doing the same. But it almost seemed hopeless. There were not any connections between the four. They had never met, nor were they in any of the same clubs or organizations. Ai rubbed her eyes, ready to give up.

She wondered what connection Ayumi had to any of this. Had she just been an innocent passerby, abducted because she had witnessed the crime or had seen the man responsible? Or was there a deeper reason for her disappearance? Could Gin have been involved?

She narrowed her eyes. Gin did not know Ayumi had any connection to her. He could not know. But . . . would Ayumi have ever had occasion to tell Gin about the people she knew? If she had ever described Ai, or Heaven forbid, shown him a picture . . . he would know. . . . How could he help but know? They had grown up together. He would recognize her, even in this form. He might not understand, but he would know it was her.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the ringing of the telephone. Quickly she snatched it up before it would wake Dr. Agasa. "Hello?" she said in hushed tones.

"Haibara!" It was Conan, as she had suspected. No one else would call this late.

"What is it, Kudo?" she asked, instinctively reaching again for the printouts. "Did you find something?" Knowing him, he would. If there was anything to find, no matter how well hidden, he would somehow discover the secret.

"I did," he answered then. "More than one thing. . . ." There was a pause, and the rustling of papers. "Look at the guest list for the Blue Parrot, the nightclub that the fourth victim belonged to." He waited for a moment, until he was certain that Ai had the list before her. "I knew that some of the other names looked strange, but I didn't stop to think much about it at first. But look at the second, twenty-third, and fifty-fourth names."

Ai did this, frowning as she skimmed over them. At first she was not certain what she was supposed to be looking for, but then her eyes widened briefly in realization. "Kudo, are these supposed to be mixed up versions of the other victims' names?" she demanded.

"That's right," Conan answered grimly. "So that means that they did have a connection after all." More rustling of papers. "And the Blue Parrot itself is a suspicious place," he added then. "It's a very private club, and the names of several suspected criminals are on the guest list. The police have never been able to prove anything, but they've believed for a while now that the Blue Parrot might be a front."

His eyes narrowed when he suddenly heard Ai give a quiet gasp. "What is it, Haibara?" he asked urgently, coming to attention.

There was a silence. "Ling Hi Sou is on this list," Ai said at last. She gripped the paper tightly. "He was that man whom Ayumi said kidnapped her before, and ended up seriously wounding Gin." She hesitated. "Kudo, could he be involved with the killings, and with Ayumi's disappearance?"

"It's something we should look into." Conan sounded distant, as if he was occupied with something. At last he took a deep breath and spoke again. "Haibara . . . I talked to someone else who also saw Ayumi running away," he said quietly and seriously, as if he was leading up to something that he did not think Ai would like.

Without realizing it, she tensed. "What did this person say, Kudo?"

Conan sighed. "There was a man nearby, using a cell phone, unnoticed by Ayumi. When he saw her run off in the opposite direction, he followed her."

"And he looked like Gin?" Ai finished for him.

"Yes. . . ." Conan hesitated. "I don't know what he did then, but it seems likely that he could have taken her." He took off his glasses, running a hand over his face.

Now Ai sighed. "Even if he did, it could have been to protect her from the killer," she pointed out. "He's been good to her. Even though it doesn't make sense to us, he's saved her life more than once." Still, she could not deny that part of her wondered if it was even logical to come to the conclusion that Gin would not harm the child. If Gin had somehow learned of Ayumi's connection with Ai. . . . But then she narrowed her eyes. She might worry about it, but she still did not see how it would be possible for him to actually know. And Gin would not hurt Ayumi. She had to believe that with all of her heart. And yet, how could she actually trust him? In spite of what he had done for Ayumi, she could not forget what he had done in the past. He could not be trusted.

"I know he has, Haibara. . . ." Conan was speaking again. "But still, what if all along it's been some kind of a plot? Maybe he's been working all along at getting close to Ayumi because he wants her to lead him to us . . . to you. . . . She trusts him so much. . . . He might think that if he manipulated her, he could get what he wanted. If he asked her to let him meet her friends, she would innocently bring him to us."

Ai gripped the phone, the words she wanted to say catching in her throat. "I'm sorry, Kudo," she said quietly after a long moment. "I have to go." And she gave a soft sigh, placing the telephone into the cradle. Then she leaned forward on the desk, running a hand into her red hair.

Why had she done that? She had thought things similar to what Conan had just now suggested. It was not as if he was suggesting something new, or something that she did not believe possible. And in any case, it was not like her to abruptly break off a conversation like that. Perhaps . . . perhaps she was afraid that hearing the words spoken would somehow make them become more real, or to assuredly come to pass. But she frowned, knowing that was absurd. She had simply not wanted to hear her own fears voiced. She did not want them to be true.

She would wait and see if they heard anything from Ayumi in the next few hours. If they did not, maybe then they would need to fully consider the idea that Ayumi had been kidnapped by someone, and not necessarily Gin. If Gin was trying to lure Ai out, he would do something so that she would be certain it was him. He liked playing his games with people.

Sighing again, Ai stood up and turned off the light. She would not be sleeping for a while yet. There was something else she had to work on first. Something that she had not even told Conan about yet. And if she found that it would not work, she did not plan to ever mention it.


	3. Apoptoxin

**Chapter Three**

Gin leaned back in the plush chair, looking at the information he had just managed to uncover after searching on Vermouth's computer for the past hour. He had discovered the same things that Conan and Ai had learned, and he was not pleased about any of it. Ling must surely know the victims, he decided, and for Yusuke Ushio's brother to have been involved with the murders, Gin wondered if the other had possessed a reason that he hoped would lead him to Gin, or at least to attract the blonde's attention. He had mostly discarded the thought before, but now that there was more evidence of Ling's likely involvement, he was considering it again.

"So! Find anything good?"

He started and whirled around at the sound of Vermouth's voice. The blonde woman had appeared in the doorway of the room, looking typically curious. Gin suddenly felt typically irritated.

"What do you know about the Blue Parrot?" he grunted, looking at her from behind the long bangs.

Vermouth blinked. "The Blue Parrot?" she repeated, coming into the room and sitting on a nearby chair. "Well, it's a nightclub . . . pretty popular among the rich and famous, and rumored to be a hot spot among shady characters." She smirked. "Of course, 'shady' is all in the eye of the beholder. As we well know, almost anyone could be 'shady', no matter how legitimate their business supposedly is." She leaned forward, trying to get a glance at the papers Gin was holding. "Why so inquisitive, Gin? Does it have something to do with that girl's story?"

Gin shrugged. "Hi Sou's a member of that club," he answered flatly, "and so are the four murder victims. I doubt it's coincidence." He handed her the sheets, allowing her to look through them and hoping that she would be able to supply him with some sort of useful information.

"Oh, I doubt it too," Vermouth remarked, flipping through the pages. When she came to one in particular, her eyes narrowed. "Naomi Sakurai," she murmured. "She's the reporter who was killed first today, before the secretary Rei Yoshinari." She studied the black and white photo that accompanied the article telling of her demise, as if attempting to make certain of something.

"Do you know her?" Gin asked pointedly. It was obvious to him that the name meant something to her, and judging from her reaction and especially her scrutiny of the picture, it was as though she had met this Naomi Sakurai more than once.

Vermouth nodded slowly. "She actually interviewed me a couple of times, when I was here in Japan before," she replied. "She was just new to the business then, and I was her first big assignment. She was thrilled to have the chance to interview the famous Chris Vineyard, of course." She winked, and Gin's lip curled in annoyance.

"I don't imagine you'd know of any reason why Hi Sou would kill her," the green-eyed man said.

Vermouth sighed. "Sorry, Gin," she replied, going through the papers once more before handing them back to him. "I have no idea, unless maybe she got too close to something that she shouldn't have. Being a reporter, and knowing about the rumors of the Blue Parrot being a front, maybe she joined under an assumed name and started snooping around. Hi Sou could be in on the illegal activities there, and maybe he recognized her. And if he did, maybe he hired one of his hitmen to take her out."

Gin frowned down at the papers in his hands, trying to mentally sort through the mystery that he had unwillingly been handed. Somehow he had the feeling that the fourth victim was the key. It just seemed odd to him, that Naomi Sakurai had been killed on the same day as Rei Yoshinari, considering the number of days between the previous deaths. And the pearls. . . . Somehow they must be important, too, or else they would not be left as a message at each crime scene. But what would they be supposed to represent?

Pearls were usually white, he knew . . . like the snow. And the blood-red color reminded him of something being tainted. He wondered if that idea could be in the killer's mind as well. If so, what did he think had tainted the pearls? Did they represent the four victims? Were they supposed to be pure, and then something had happened that eliminated that purity, in the killer's mind? Or did the red color simply mean their pure blood being spilled? There were such varied possibilities.

And then there was the man Ayumi had seen. . . . She had only managed to take note of his "plastic arm", she had said, but maybe after sleeping for a while she would be able to remember something else as well---his clothes, or maybe something about his height or weight or the way he walked. But he supposed that meanwhile, he could work with the prosthetic arm clue. He could check around with Ling's contacts and hitmen in Tokyo and see how many of them had such limbs. Surely there would not be that many.

"Is the girl asleep again?" he spoke finally.

"She wasn't when I left," Vermouth said, and smirked in amusement. "She wanted to talk to Vodka, and he looked so flustered."

Gin grunted. He could well imagine.

* * *

Ayumi sat partially up on the soft mattress, looking over at Vodka as he shifted uncomfortably in the chair by the bed. She bit her lip, averting her gaze downward to the comforter as she ran her hand over it. The material was so soft, as was the bed. She did not know where she was, but she felt completely safe. Still, she had questions, particularly for Vodka. There was something she had wanted to ask him for some time now, though she had never had the chance. And though she felt somewhat reluctant to do so now, she wanted very much to know the answer.

"Vodka-san?" she spoke up then, looking back up at him.

He started and glanced over at her. "What is it?" he half-mumbled. He felt nervous, being left alone with her, and he wondered when Gin would come back, or when Ayumi would fall asleep---whichever happened first. He found himself hoping that Vermouth would not be the only one to return. It had made him very uneasy, when she had been with him and Ayumi a few moments earlier. She had joked that they might be mistaken for a family, and he had turned crimson.

"Do you not like me very much?"

He gaped at her, not having expected that at all. For a moment he could not even find his voice to reply. "Why . . . why would you ask that?" he stammered at last.

Ayumi shrugged slightly. "I don't know. . . . I guess . . . I just kinda wonder," she answered softly. "You act like you don't know what to say to me a lot of times, and you get kinda mad sometimes. . . . But I know that's almost always when you're worried, like when Gin-sama was hurt. . . ." She looked down, feeling tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Vodka-san. . . . I cause you and Gin-sama so much trouble!"

Vodka was at a complete loss for words. He wondered how Gin ever managed to deal with her. "I . . . I don't dislike you," he exclaimed then.

Ayumi blinked and looked at him hopefully. "You don't?" she repeated.

Vodka nodded, shifting again. "You're not so bad, for a kid," he replied, wishing that Gin would come in and put a stop to the conversation.

Ayumi tilted her side to the side. "Why don't you like kids, Vodka-san?" she asked.

Vodka shrugged uncomfortably. "Well . . . most of them are hard to get along with," he answered, wondering why he was bothering to tell this to her. "And . . . they cause a lot of trouble, and get into things they shouldn't." He cast his gaze desperately around the room and to the door. "I guess . . . most of the kids I've met are . . . well . . . brats," he finished helplessly.

Ayumi bit her lip. "Oh. . . ." Carefully she threw back the comforter and came over to the edge of the bed, and to Vodka's astonishment she climbed onto his lap. "I'm glad you don't hate me, Vodka-san," she said softly, snuggling as she embraced him around the neck. "I like you a lot! You're my friend."

Vodka was stunned. He stared at her, wondering what to say, or if there was anything that actually could be said. He could feature Gin being shocked as well, before telling her that she should pick better friends. But that was not Vodka's style. Finally he simply slumped back, letting her hug him and wondering how he and Gin had gotten into this situation in the first place.

* * *

The pain was excruciating, when it came. She should have been prepared for it, but she was not. Her eyes widened as she gripped the edge of the table with one hand, while placing the other over her heart as she fell to her knees. She breathed heavily, shuddering and trembling, and she wished it would pass. It felt as if her entire body was on fire.

At some point, she collapsed completely to the floor. She did not and could not try to get up, but simply continued to lay there, grabbing desperately at the floor with her small hands. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to focus her mind on other things, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything except the pain. It was worse this time than it even had been in the past. She was allowed a brief respite to wonder what that meant, before the agony overtook her once again.

She was never sure if she screamed, or how long she laid there, or even if she had been conscious through it all. All she knew was that suddenly, it stopped. And she let out a deep breath, continuing to lay where she was as she absorbed this knowledge. She felt fine now, even normal . . . as normal as she could be, she thought wryly to herself. And she wondered if it had worked.

Her train of thought was then halted by the realization of what had truly brought her back to awareness---a sharp, insistent ringing. Someone was calling. But . . . was it not still the middle of the night? Even Conan should be in bed by now. . . .

She reached up, grabbing the edge of the table as she pulled her body upright. Out the window, she could see an increasing light streaming through. Either she had been up all night working without quite comprehending it, or else she had, indeed, fallen unconscious for some unknown period of time. Oh well, she could work out the details later. Quickly she grabbed the receiver. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Haibara!" came Conan's familiar voice. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," she answered, but then trailed off as she noticed the scraps of cloth falling off her arm. She gazed down at herself, quickly taking note that, among other things, all of her clothing was torn. She looked around the room for something she could put on, and then swiftly reached for one of Agasa's lab coats. It would be too big on her, but she certainly could not go parading out of the laboratory the way she appeared now.

"Haibara?"

Suddenly she became aware that Conan had been talking to her for the last few minutes, as she had been getting into the coat and buttoning it. She had tried to hold the phone with one hand as she had worked, but her mind had not been on anything that her caller had said. She sighed to herself at this realization. "What is it, Kudo?" she asked.

"Have you heard anything I just said?"

She smirked wryly as she crossed the room, studying herself in the mirror over the wash basin. "No, I haven't," she said matter-of-factly, "but I need to see you right away."

"Ayumi didn't come home last night," Conan reported, and then took in what he had just been told. "What's happening, Haibara?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing. "Why do you need to see me?"

"I can't explain over the phone," she replied mysteriously, "except I don't think I'll be able to go to school today." With that, the call was terminated, leaving a very bewildered Conan on the other end of the line.

* * *

The supposed child did not waste any time, and after quickly writing a note to Ran that Ai Haibara wanted to see him, he left the Mouri Detective Agency and was on his way back to his old neighborhood, via his skateboard.

Along the way, he considered many different possibilities as to what had happened and why she wanted to see him. She had sounded so occupied, and her last words had been so cryptic. Was she ill? Had something happened to Dr. Agasa? Or even . . . was it possible that she was not Ai Haibara any longer? He had not known that she had even been thinking much about an antidote lately, though it was always in the back of his mind and he found that he had assumed the same for her.

If that was the case, then he wondered what that would mean for them both. Would the effects even be permanent? There had been temporary antidotes in the past. If this was the complete, working cure, then they would have to continue laying low, working even harder to bring down the Black Organization. And they would have to succeed this time. They could not live normal lives as long as the Organization still operated, and especially not if they were in their true forms.

His next thought was that if Ai had, indeed, found the antidote, it could not have come at a better time. With Ayumi's disappearance, he felt certain that Gin was responsible somehow. Perhaps they would even have to confront him to get her back. But he wondered where they would even begin to look.

Finding that he had arrived at Agasa's home, Conan jumped off his skateboard and picked it up, carrying it with him to the front door. Before he could reach up to knock, it was opened by someone on the other side whom he could not see. The room beyond was dark, all of the curtains closed. "Come in, Kudo," Ai's familiar voice came to him then. As Conan hurried in, the door was shut and locked behind him.

He turned, by now half-expecting what he would see. But he still found himself gaping at the sight of Shiho Miyano standing before him, wearing a too-big lab coat and no shoes. She caught his gaze and smiled wryly, moving away from the door. "This is the only thing that fits me at all now," she remarked. "It's better for it to be too big rather than too small."

Finally Conan managed to find his voice. "Do you know if this antidote will last?" he asked, his gaze drifting from her long and shapely legs, up her torso, and to her face. It was the same face as Ai Haibara's. She had not aged much. He was certain that if Ran or the Detective Boys saw her, they would realize who she had been. It was so obvious.

She shook her head. "I don't know," she answered slowly, "but I think there's a good possibility of it." She walked over to the couch and sat down, and Conan quickly joined her. "The pain was more intense this time," she said seriously, turning to look at him. "I think that could mean that the damage was repairing itself in a more permanent way." She searched his blue eyes. "If you wanted to take it . . . I believe there's a good chance you would stay in your true body this time, and not revert back to this again." She nodded slightly, indicating his form as Conan.

He nodded slowly. He wanted so badly to get back to his life as Shinichi Kudo, and he had ever since this had happened to him. But he still worried over what he had always worried over---Ran's safety. As long as the Black Organization was loose, it did not seem safe to return to her as Shinichi. And yet, he certainly could not hope to defeat the crime syndicate as Conan Edogawa.

"If you need some time to decide, that's understandable," Shiho spoke, having read his thoughts once more. She knew of the dilemma he was going through, even though she was also certain that she knew of how it would end up eventually. She was certain that he would take the antidote, and soon. The only question then was, What would he tell Ran after that? After all the time she had spent getting used to Conan, it would not seem fair for the child to suddenly vanish without Ran realizing it. But it would also seem ridiculous for him to say that his parents finally wanted him again and that he had to go, and that Agasa would take him to the airport. Of course, Shiho mused to herself, the entire situation to begin with was ridiculous.

Conan sighed softly. "I worry about how we're going to bring down the Black Organization," he said then. "It may have to be done sooner than we thought." He narrowed his eyes. "With Ayumi still being missing, I don't think we can ignore the possibility that Gin has her. And we can't solely rely on the hope that he'll be good to her, as he's seemed to be in the past."

"I know, Kudo," Shiho said after a long silence. "If we're to be realistic, we have to acknowledge that he could have found out about my connection to her and he might be using her because of that."

"Your voice sounds hollow," Conan remarked quietly. "You still don't believe it."

"I don't want to believe it." Shiho looked away. "There's a difference." She started to get up, wanting to change the subject. "We need to find Ayumi. That should be our top priority now. And I realize that if we find her, we may find Gin." She glanced back slightly. "The only lead we have is for the Blue Parrot. We'll have to follow it up. If we can find Ling Hi Sou there, or someone who works for him, we may learn something else. It's possible that they have Ayumi, instead of it being Gin."

Conan knew that she was right. "You can't go out like that, though," he objected.

"Of course I won't. I asked Dr. Agasa to get me a few things." Shiho sighed, coming back to the couch.

Conan had to smirk slightly in amusement at the thought of the poor, bewildered inventor browsing the women's department of a clothing store. Then he sobered, starting to get up off the couch. "I'll take the antidote and come with you," he declared.

She looked to him. "Are you sure?" she queried.

He nodded. "I'll call Ran and say that you wanted to see me because . . . because my parents came for me," he decided quietly, despite feeling his insides twist a bit at the thought of lying again to Ran. It seemed the lesser of two evils at the moment. He could not tell her yet about him being Conan. Maybe later, when everything was over and there was not any more danger. . . .

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Shiho's voice was still serious and quiet.

He blinked, looking back. "Do you think I should tell her the truth . . . in spite of the risks?" he asked.

"It's up to you," she told him. "But if you keep lying to her, she may come to not know what to think at all, or if she can trust you. It will already be hard for her, to learn that you've been living a lie for as long as you have. I know your reasons, Kudo, and I believe that in time, she will come to understand as well, but it would only be human for her to find it hard to accept at first."

He knew she was right. But it was not as if he had not pondered over those very things many a time. He had nearly told Ran on several occassions, but then something had always happened to cause it to not happen. It was as if fate worked against him, letting him know that keeping the truth from Ran was the best thing. "She's not safe knowing about it," he said finally. "You and I both know that. I would tell her if I didn't think it could bring danger to her."

She nodded. "Alright." She paused. "But, Kudo . . . there's one other thing you should do before taking the antidote."

He frowned in confusion, looking to her. "What's that?" he asked.

"Go get some clothes from your house next-door," Shiho replied, the faintest trace of a smirk on her face.


End file.
